The Weapon
by Gingeraffealene
Summary: Arthur has returned and faces the battle for Albion. What role is his ancient warlock meant to play? What must Arthur ask of his friend? And what is Merlin willing to sacrifice? Eternal life with matchless power is a gift, but to what end?


**The Weapon**

"Sir, we should set defenses along that line. If we're cut off we lose one our most vital advantages."

"Merlin can you set up wards to alert us of any covert infiltration?"

"Yes, Arthur."

"Those may be sufficient defensive measures but if nuclear capabilities are more than just rumor we'll need to go on the offensive."

"Yes, what about the rumors of a nuclear option? How do we handle that?"

"Merlin, what do you think? Could your power contain a nuclear blast?"

All eyes turned to the warlock who replied almost beseechingly, "Perhaps, but don't you think.."

"That's not a clear enough answer. I need to know exactly what I've got to work with," snapped Arthur.

Merlin hesitated and closed his eyes momentarily, and when he spoke his voice sounded cold and lifeless.

"Yes, Arthur. I can do whatever you need me to do. I can manipulate the weather and the elements of the earth like child's play. I can raze forests, cities and strongholds, level mountains, move oceans. My magic has withstood dragon fire. I can be your nuclear option. I can be whatever you need me to be. Just be sure it's what you really want."

Arthur looked at Merlin concerned. This didn't sound like his friend. He regarded him with furrowed brows. The man hadn't smiled in weeks. In fact he was once again looking as burdened and grim as he had in the weeks and months before ..Camlann.

"Good. Well, hopefully it won't come to that, but it's good to know our options. "

He turned back to the men standing around the table who were watching his friend with expressions ranging from skeptical to calculating. Disturbed, he cleared his throat and drew their attention back to himself.

An hour later, Arthur rubbed his neck, stretched his back and looked up from the table.

"We'll finish this after lunch. Merlin.." He scanned the room. "Where is he?" The men looked around, but the warlock had apparently slipped out with no one the wiser. Arthur acknowledged the niggle of concern that had been poking at him ever since the tense conversation earlier. Something felt very wrong. He grabbed a sandwich from the loaded tray in the hallway and devoured it as he searched the building for his friend. Finally he stopped and thought. _Merlin was obviously distressed. _ He snapped his fingers. _He's outside._

Arthur found him sitting on the ground in shadow behind the building. He hesitated, trying to gauge his friend's mood. Dark smoke swirled before the warlock and with a flick of his fingers it changed to the form of a man that multiplied and became row upon row of men, soldiers by the look of them. The figures grew smaller as they multiplied and their ranks were joined by the forms of women and children. Merlin suddenly pushed his open palm toward them and the figures were blown down, tumbling into nothingness. He gathered the smoke again and drew it together in the form of a young woman with long hair and a beautiful smile. Arthur caught the word "Freya" and watched the adam's apple bob up and down as Merlin tried to swallow a lump in his throat.

"I'll never understand...never. Why do people with finite mortal lives value life so little? It makes no sense at all. If they take this path, there'll be an end to everything. It won't matter if I've used my magic for good or not. There'll be nothing left. I can't watch it. Not again. I can't do this any longer and yet, there's no end to it.. never for me. No way out.. at least I haven't found one yet. And, I can't leave him."

The form of the young woman appeared to lean forward and caress his hair lovingly before dissipating.

Merlin hugged his knees and buried his face in his arms.

Arthur made his presence known as he awkwardly joined his friend on the grass.

"What do you need, my Lord?"

Arthur's heart twisted. He'd broken him somehow. But only for a moment, right? He'd come to apologize after all.

"I'm sorry."

The warlock looked up but focused on the trees before him. Arthur made to open his mouth to try again but Merlin beat him to it.

"Over the centuries as magic has fled the land it has gathered itself to me. I am more powerful than I've ever been. So I feel it's safe to say I can probably contain the explosion, but the initial damage will still happen and I can't be sure of how far the devastation will extend until I can absorb the power completely. It's a risk you'll need to factor in. I also don't know the amount of recovery time I'll require after using that much magic so you may need a contingency plan for that too in case I'm out of commission for a bit."

"Merlin, I didn't want to ask it.."

He was interrupted.

"Wouldn't it be easier and better to have me simply turn a bomb into a dud rather than contain an explosion? And if so, then don't you agree that it would be better to prevent the bomb being made at all? There are other ways, Arthur. Can't we focus more on prevention?"

Arthur's frustration boiled over. "Prevention! That's what I'm trying to do by laying plans predicting the enemy's moves. I've got the best military minds in there that I can find, .."

Merlin cut him off sharply, "Yes, I thought I saw Napoleon, Frederick, Turenne, Ghengis Kahn and Sherman at the table. I recognize their talents.. and their tendencies."

Merlin wasn't making this any easier.

"Ha. Ha. Yes. Perhaps you don't appreciate their profession but you also don't appreciate how much I need to rely upon their counsel and expertise. They know a lot more about warfare in this era than I do!"

"Yes. They _certainly do_," Merlin said pointedly.

"What should I do then, Merlin?" He threw his hands up in frustration. "Tell me, because right now I really don't know. I'm doing my best in a world far different from the one I knew. I am so afraid of being inadequate to the task that I am struggling to not let myself be paralyzed by it! I don't want to use you as a weapon, but I can't deny you seem to be a great solution to my shortcomings!"

Merlin shook his head, still focused on the trees.

"Arthur you are an excellent warrior and tactician and brilliant at strategy, but so were many other men that the world has seen. So then why do you think you are the one who was brought back to save Albion? What makes you different and worthy? What makes you Albion's best hope? What did you do that other men failed to do? When you know the answer to that, you'll know what you should be doing to ensure victory for all of Albion."

"Honestly, Merlin I don't know the answer. I have never understood why I was the other half of your coin, as you say. You're right, I'm not powerful or more intelligent. I'm just...me."

Finally, the ancient warlock locked his eyes on the king.

"I'll remind you then. You were the man who took risks for peace. You were the one to look for options that no other leader would consider. You, Arthur Pendragon, were the man who _united_ Albion. You were King Arthur, the man who was courageous enough to look beyond deeply ingrained prejudices, who valued men's actions above the status of their birth, who dared to forgive offenses, who was willing to personally sacrifice for a compromise, who required all men to be held to the standard of justice, who was strong enough to exercise mercy. Be King Arthur again, my friend. Listen to your heart or all is lost."

Suddenly it struck Arthur: Merlin's most devastating effectiveness wasn't his power to destroy, it was his power to counsel, provide perspective and to build. He should have been listening to his friend more than to his new advisors all along.

Merlin hadn't been preserved through the history of the world just so he could blow up things effectively when Arthur returned for a battle. His true calling was to experience the struggles of humanity so that his accumulated experience of centuries would lend Arthur the wisdom to truly succeed. To put him to use solely as a weapon would be a tragedy and a waste. To force him to betray his gentle nature would be a sickening crime. This amazing man, this extraordinary creature of magic should be protected from being _used_ as much as possible.

Arthur swiped tears from his cheeks. "And what of you, old friend? You've been granted miraculous power kept in check only by the kindness of your heart. What role are you meant to play then? I have no desire to see you used as a weapon. You were never meant for that."

"Arthur," Merlin smiled softly, gratefully, "In this world that craves peace, yet refuses to grant it, I have the power to create an opportunity for you to use your gifts to lead us all to peace. I am the power that ensures that you get the chance to do the right thing. I am the power meant to hold the violence of the world in check until peace has gained a strong foothold. I hope that I can accomplish that by the simple fact and threat of my mere existence and my loyalty to you. But if not, I will do what you need me to do. I will be what you need me to be. Because I trust you to listen to your heart."

"But.." Arthur's voice failed him. He struggled for a moment while his warlock waited patiently. "I can't ask you to … I don't want to hurt you. To ask you to do something that offends your nature. I don't want you to change."

At last, Merlin grinned, teasing, "I've managed not to so far."

Arthur didn't smile in response.

Merlin sobered again and said, "Arthur, the intention behind the action actually counts when it comes to living with ourselves. I've learned that. I finally believe what Gaius told me so long ago. I am not a monster. Not as long as I have love of humanity and preservation of life as my guide and purpose. I have also learned that peace is worthy of sacrifice. You taught me that. It'll be alright. We'll find another way, a better way to achieve peace and any sacrifice along that way will be worth it. It's our Destiny."

They both regarded the trees silently until Merlin's stomach grumbled loudly.

"Think there are any sandwiches left?"

Merlin stood and offered his friend a hand up. They went back inside to re-imagine the pathway through the conflict, beginning again from square one.


End file.
